


Wild West

by millygal



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 14:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Sam's a prat (as always) and Ray has to figure a way out of the mess he's landed them in...





	

**Author's Note:**

> From my 'challenge' this is space_oddity_75's bunny. I cheated a lil hun, you'll see how and why, but that's 'cos I kind of painted the lads into a corner and had no way of getting them out (hope you don't mind too much) Apart from the one prompt, that's all of them done now *Is Dead*

Ray can feel his lungs protesting, violently objecting to such rigorous exercise and he can hear the steady thwapthwapthwap of Chris's shoes as he pounds along the pavement. Chris's feet and Ray's heart are strangely in synch, lending an eery soundtrack to the otherwise silent road.

Ray and his best mate are close on the heels of their DI, who's running hell for leather after a little scally they've just caught trying to do over a tobacconists. Cheeky scroat'd been brandishing a pistol and screaming at some poor old lady behind the counter, demanding she fill a co-op carrier bag full of cash and ciggies.

Unbloodybelievable. As he'd turned round to face the three officers, Ray'd seen exactly who it was trying to relieve the shop of it's takings. Billy Blitz. Daft fucker. They'd only had him in custody three hours previous and guess who'd let him go on the grounds that they didn't have enough 'evidence' to charge and hold him?

Sam bloody Tyler and his stupid rules and regulations. If they'd kept hold of the little toerag, he wouldn't have been trying to rob some timid old bird in a back alley shop. But no, he'd had to way in with his holier than though act and they'd ended up having to let Billy go. 

Now Ray can feel his insides beginning to give out and it's all Tyler's fault. Git.

Only reason Billy'd made it out in one piece was Sam keep 'clucking' his tongue and eyeing Ray, daring him to start using his fists. 

He'd been had for driving a getaway car for a band of misfits trying to do over a jewelers, except they'd nabbed him too soon and the six blokes inside the shop had legged it before getting nicked. That meant they'd had no real reason to hold him, no crime, no evidence, no jail cell. Bugger.

Ray's lungs are about to implode but there ain't no way he's gonna give Sam another something to feel high and mighty about so he pumps his legs and doubles his efforts to draw level with the smug son of a bitch.

He can see Sam's annoyingly pert backside wiggling in front of his face and he wonders exactly how they always end up running. He's a smoker, smokers don't generally do well in track events and yet, they always manage to end up pelting it after some toerag that's younger and fitter than them.

Ray hears Sam call back and feels his face redden "Keep up ladies"

"Piss off" Oh yea, real witty, that'll show him.

"Get your useless backsides in gear then" Once, just once he'd like to give that poncy prat a bloody good kicking.

It's with no small amount of pleasure that Ray watches Billy fall arse over tit, landing heavily on his face. It fills him with even more glee to see Sam smug face Tyler fall straight over the top of him and land with a thud against the pavement. Good, hope it hurt.

Sam's just peeling himself off the floor when Ray spots the front end of a Granada come to a juddering halt at the end of the road. 

"Shit"

"Ever the word smith, Raymond"

"All right arse wipe, what's the plan? You got back up and rifle stuffed up there somewhere or are you just bein' your usual know it all self?"

Chris is still grunting and groaning and gripping his sides when he spots the six scary looking mother fuckers jump out with shotguns and finds himself looking to Sam for an idea or explanation.

It pisses Ray off, why does everyone always look to that sod for the answers? What is he, chopped bleedin' liver?

Chris is tugging on Ray's sleeve and pointing frantically "Yea all right ya spanner, I've seen 'em"

"What we gonna do, I left my radio in the car?"

"Good job I've got mine then in't it and remind me to give you a slap later"

"That's enough about your sexual leanings, DS Carling. Chris's got a point, how we gonna outrun a bloody car?"

Once his cohorts are happy he's not badly hurt, Billy and the six bastards all look up and smirk at the three coppers still bickering ten feet away "I reckon that's two to one odds, don't you fellas?"

Chris and Ray both look at each other then at Sam and Ray shouts "Fuck! Come on brain trust, might be a good idea if we ran"

"You think?"

"Just once, couldn't you two be'ave like grown ups and stop bloody bitchin'? Get a shift on, the pair of yer"

Sam and Ray stop eyeballing each other long enough to shoot Chris a withering look and turn back in the direction they've just come from. As they take off, legging it as fast as they can, Ray's in the lead and slamming himself forward as hard as he can, scanning the street for a place to hide and trying to get his radio out of his pocket.

Chris is barreling up a close second, pumping his legs and swinging his arms, leaving Sam in the dust.

A deafening roar goes up behind them, signalling the car starting and they all push themselves as best they can. Ray spots the gates to a breakers yard up ahead and slides inside "Quick, in 'ere"

Ray's still huffing and puffing but he's waving his arms and motioning for Chris and Sam to hurry the hell up. Once they're all safely inside, Ray slams the gates closed and searches for something to lever them shut with. He spots a rusty tyre iron and twists it through the links in the gate.

His mate and his DI are both panting and holding their sides, red in the face. Sam seems less than his usual pious self, probably something to do with the fact this is his fault and Ray finds himself feeling a little vindicated when Chris looks to his DI and he just shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.

Great, boy wonder's got nothin', looks like it's up to him to do something about this mess.

"Get down ya pair of prats"

Chris scrambles behind a beat up old Morris Minor and Sam hits the deck next to an oil drum, leaving Ray to try and find somewhere that'll offer decent cover. He drops behind the nearest burnt out wreck and waits, breath held for the inevitable crunch of metal on metal.

They've barely got themselves tucked away when the sound of a car engine biting, drifts across the yard. Ray scrabbles for his radio and begins to signal the station "Alpha one, come in Alpha one. Phyllis, shit Phyllis bloody come in"

There's nothing but static for a second then Phyllis's put upon voice filters from the speaker "Keep yer hair on 867, Ray? What's up?"

"We're..damn where are we..Phyllis, tell the Guv, get back out to the old breakers yard off Clanton terrace. We've got seven blokes all trying to fill us full of 'oles and only the one gun between us"

"Roger, urgent assistance required"

"Tell them to hurry the hell up"

Ray takes his finger off the button and looks to Chris who's huddled behind a rust bucket and looking about ready to lose it "Chris, oi, Div, keep a lid on it. We've got back up coming"

"Ray, shit, they're shooting at us"

"You don't say"

"Don't start on him"

"You can shut up an' all. If you 'adn't let that bloody git go, we wouldn't be stuffed up like kippers waitin' for 'em to pick us off one by one"

Sam's chagrined expression does nothing to calm Ray's fraying temper so he focuses on the radio, willing it to crackle back into life.

Sam slips his gun from the holster and before Ray can do anything, he's on his feet and waving it at the men still firing off rounds and slamming the car into the gates "Stop, you're all under arrest"

Ray rolls his eyes and grits his teeth as he hears all seven blokes begin to laugh "We're what? Copper, you ain't got a chance"

Ray hears another bullet ping off metal and watches, paralysed, as Chris shoots to his feet and steps in front of Sam.

Ray's entire world slows to a crawl as a bullet rips into Chris's shoulder. He sees the spray of blood, hears Chris's grunt of pain and shock then everything 'snaps' back into focus as the younger man hits the deck.

"Chris!"

Sam looks down, eyes wide, as Chris rolls around on the floor, clutching his shoulder and panting against the pain searing itself into his flesh.

Ray stands and shoves Sam backwards, out the way of any more bullets. By the time he looks back to Chris, he's stilled and is as white as a sheet.

Ray drops back to his knees and crawls towards Chris's inert form. His hands instinctively go to the pulse point in Chris's throat. As he feels the deep, steady thrum beneath his fingers, he feels himself relax a fraction. He's not dead, not dead. Shit, an inch south and he'd have been dead.

Ray's entire body tenses and he whips his head round to stare at Sam, still lead on his arse in the dirt. If Chris'd died, he'd have offed Tyler, no questions asked. It's touch and go as to whether he's gonna be able to hold himself in check long enough for back up to arrive but at least Chris is breathing. That takes the sting out of wanting to put his fist through Sam's chest.

All he has to do is focus on Chris, try and get him to open his eyes. He remembers something about keeping a trauma victim awake but the details are fuzzy.

"Chris, Chris you Div. Come on, wake up"

"Nrghh"

"No, none of that sleepin' bollocks, come on, wake the fuck up!"

"Ra..Ray?"

"Who else"

"Shit! That bloody stings"

"I bet, you able to sit up?"

Chris struggles into a sitting position against the Morris and winces when the movement jars his shoulder "Fuck!"

Sam still hasn't said anything, just stood up and dusted himself off and now he's looking on, bewilderment etched onto his features. Ray can feel his temper firing up, as he turns to see Sam's blank expression, he snaps into automatic.

"You bastard. You stupid fuckin' by-the-book BASTARD!" Ray launches himself at Sam, not caring if he shoves the stupid cunt into the firing line. He catches Sam in the chest with his shoulder, throwing the smaller man backwards.

Sam feels Ray's heavy body slam into his own and can't stop himself from falling backwards. As his head hits the floor he feels himself lose his own grip on sanity and screams in Ray's general direction "If you hadn't gone about it like a bull in a bloody china shop, I wouldn't have had to let the little fuck go!"

Ray pushes himself to his knees, one hand grabbing Sam's collar, feeling the material rip as he bunches it in his fist. "You let him go, exactly - you fucking let him go and now look! You've done this. He.." Ray points his free hand at Chris, "Was trying to save your sorry hide. We could 'ave kept him inside. Fuck, we could 'ave charged him! We all know he bleedin' did it!"

Sam twists in Ray's grip, attempts to wrench himself free, leaving a hand shaped hole in the material. His insides shift and twist as he turns to face Ray. Eyes wild, breath coming in loud, heavy grunts, he steps forward and smacks Ray in the jaw, watches as his head snaps back.

"Knowing and having the evidence is a completely different thing you dumb shit. How many times do I have to tell you lot of inbred's, you need hard facts before you can detain someone. He'd have been free within the hour"

Sam tries desperately not to look at Chris who's attempting to pull himself to his feet, instead he focuses on Ray's reddened face.

"We knew 'e was a scroat. We'd 'ave got something on him - anything." Ray glances at Chris, glad to see he's moving, but still desperately worried. "You'd rather wait until he'd grown up? 'til he'd done something really serious? Our job is to clean these fuckin' streets of all the scum."

Ray shoves Sam backwards, hard, getting right into his personal space, until Sam hits a teetering pile of wrecked cars. "And in my book, setting scum free to fuckin' get someone shot ain't much better than shootin' him yerself."

Sam's shoulders hit the cars and he feels them rock under his weight. Glancing up, seeing the upper most one almost topple, he slams his hands, palm flat, against Ray's chest and heaves him backwards.

Ray's face is twisted in a vicious sneer and his eyes are wide and dark. Sam narrows his own eyes and claws his fingers into Ray's shirt. "You're one to talk you useless piece of...Did they teach you to force feed narcotics to inmates at the training school or is that just something you picked up, all on your own? How fucking dare you point the finger at me when all you do is screw it up"

Sam lets his anger consume him and hollers at Ray "The Guv was right, DS does stand for **dog shit!** "

Ray uses Sam's own movement to throw Sam around, knocking him off balance so they both end up back in the mud, Ray's fist impacting with Sam's face a second later.

"You fucking bastard - I've sent down more murderers and slags than you'll ever fuckin' meet. I've been keepin' this city safe since you were still pissin' the bed. You think you're some sort of fuckin' God or something? Well one day you'll 'ave to get your fuckin' hands dirty, but when it comes to it, you won't have the balls. Fucking hiding behind yer paperwork an' rules. That's not how it works. I paid the price for my mistake - Chris is payin' the price for yours."

Sam struggles and pushes, tries to shift Ray off him, he only manages to dig himself deeper into the dirt and shit surrounding them. He brings his elbow up, catching Ray in the nose and rolls himself sideways, taking advantage of Ray's momentary lapse in concentration.

Chris desperately keeps trying to haul himself to his feet, when that doesn't work, when the pain in his shoulder becomes too much, he opens his mouth a screeches at the two squabbling men "FOR FUCKS SAKE!"

When they've stilled, no longer beating the crap out of each other, he allows his voice to come down a notch and hisses at the pair of them.

"How many times we gonna 'ave to 'ave this bullshit from you two? S'not bad enough you keep tryin' to one up each other but now you've gotta try and get yaselves killed for a punch up. Don't know if you've noticed but there are a bunch of crazies with guns all lining up to take pot shots at us, so belt up and work together 'for I decide neither one of you is worth the time of fuckin' day"

Sam sits up and looks to where Chris is propped against the car and feels the anger drain from his mind. Chris is right, they're behaving like children and it won't get them out of this shit, nor stop Chris bleeding out, so they have to think of something. Fast.

Ray crawls back to Chris, puts a hand against the shoulder wound and checks the speed at which the blood is flowing. "Careful, don't get all worked up. Need to keep ya strength, yea"

He turns blue eyes on muddy green and nods once, allowing himself to calm down enough to try and figure a way out of the complete balls up they've landed themselves in.

"Look, m'sorry right. It's just.." he trails off and gestures to Chris then looks back at Sam. 

Understanding blossoms in Sam's eyes and he finds himself smirking at Ray "Yea, s'fine. Shouldn't have been such a..."

"Dickhead, tosser, arsehole"

"Yea alright Ray, I think he gets the message"

Sam moves to avoid getting hit by another stray bullet pinging around his head and makes as if to lift Chris onto his feet. Ray shakes his head and moves his own arms underneath Chris's and pulls him up.

Sam stands back, hands raised in surrender and asks "Alright, so what we gonna do? We need to get out of here but they're blocking the gate"

Chris winces and leans heavily against Ray then starts looking around for an escape route. He spots an opening in the back fence and nods towards it. When neither man seems to see what he has, he looses his patience and says sarcastically "Look, I know you two is old an' all but d'ya need ya eyes testin'? In the corner, gap in the fence. Moving might be a good idea"

Ray jostles Chris, careful of his injury, but still jabs him in the ribs "Cheeky shit"

Sam chuckles, ducks again as another bullet comes whizzing by his ear and heads towards the hole in the fence. Gun raised, eyes scanning for anything that'll slow them down, he squeezes through the gap and gestures for Ray to hand Chris over.

When Ray seems reluctant to let Chris go, Sam looses his cool for a second and snaps "Come on you prat. We need to get moving. If back up isn't gonna be here for a while we need to find some place else to hide. You can't both squeeze through there, now give him to me"

Sighing heavily, Ray shoves Chris carefully towards Sam's outstretched arms and waits for Chris to squeeze through the hole. When he's safely through and leaning on Sam, Ray pushes forward.

Just as he's about to take Chris back from Sam, Ray's radio crackles into life and he hears Phyllis's voice come across the waves "Oi, you bunch of morons...the Guv's on his way. He says that Tyler's gonna get his'self a beatin' for gettin' you into this and to sit tight"

Ray laughs, really laughs and stumbles for the radio. Yanking it out his pocket he signals in "Roger that. The boss looks so happy 'bout that Phyllis. Tell the Guv we're the other side of the yard. He'll see us if he hooks a left, we've skanked out the back but there are seven of 'em remember"

"Don't worry, he'll be as careful as ever and..." The familiar and distinctive sound of the Cortina's engine dips and roars and all three men look to their right just in time to see Gene Hunt run right into the back of the black Granada, sending all seven shit heads sprawling into the dirt.

"Urm, we've got him Alpha one. See you when we get back, send an ambulance would ya"

"Why?"

"Chris's been shot"

"Oh"

"Yea, and I'm beginning to think he's just fakin' it so he doesn't 'ave to walk on his own but he's bleedin' pretty bad"

He hears Phyllis scrabble around for something then the sound of static overshare screeches in his ear and he knows she's radioing out to the nearest ambulance unit she can find.

Together, Sam, Ray and Chris all listen to the sound of people being beaten every which way but loose until there's nothing left but silence. That's when they hear the Guv's voice bellow out across the space "Tyler! You best not 'ave got any of my officers hurt, ya hear!"

"Shit!"

"Rather you than me boss"

Sam turns back to Ray who's smirking and supporting an equally as amused Chris "You're funny. Wait, can't we just hide 'til he goes away?"

"No, 'cos he'll just kick ya extra hard when he does find us"

"Fine, fine. Come on then, let's go face the music"

*

*

*

Gene looks up and sees all three of his officers hobbling towards him and wonders exactly why they've got identical silly grins plastered across their faces "What's so bloody funny?"

"Nothin' Guv"

"Nout, Guv"

"Nothing Gene"


End file.
